Showing posts with label vintage trailer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vintage trailer. Show all posts

Monday, November 6, 2017

Into the desert...

October 8th, 2017 Day 2: Susanville, California to Mina, Nevada (250 miles)


On Sunday morning I set off for nevada. Some people might consider these drives across the desert regions of America boring, but not me! I love all aspects of changing scenery when I am on a road trip. Be it the lush green forests of Oregon or the arid red dirt and rocks of New Mexico, I find myself feeling truly inspired by the symmetrical patterns and variety that nature reveals in all of its forms as I drive.


 I am also a sucker for old dilapidated sheds, houses and historical buildings which is why I prefer to travel on my own rather than in a caravan with others as I tend to have so many "Stop the car!" moments where I just have to get a photo that it would probably drive anyone traveling with me crazy. Most of these stops also involve getting into chats with admirers of the Hudson as was the case when I doubled back to admire this lovely old church in Doyle. The guy who has been restoring it drove past and was tickled pink to see us parked outside and also stopped for a chat and took some photos.


From Doyle I drove past Reno on the I-80 when suddenly all traffic was being redirected off the highway in a detour that took me so far off the beaten track that I was hoping I wouldn't run out of gas as Doc Hudson only has a 150-mile maximum range.  The GPS kept saying "turn around when possible" and seemed to have no recalculated course for me to follow and there were no signs telling me how to get back to my route.


 So I just continued on the 439 south to Silver Springs where I thankfully found a gas station and a very helpful Nevada Highway Patrolman Trooper Rick O'Dough who not only owned a 1962 shasta but gave me directions to the 95 with the recommendation to fill up again in Hawthorn as it would be 100 miles to the next gas station in Tonopah. I thanked him profusely for the tip and  set off again.


I arrived in Mina at as the sun was setting behind the mountains and pulled into the Sunrise Valley RV Park, and took my leftover pizza to the nearby gazebo where some other RV'ers were also having pizza and introduced myself. People are always genuinely surprised when they find out I am traveling on my own.  You meet so many more people when you travel solo than you would if you were with someone else as you tend to stick together when you're with others whereas I have to be more outgoing and open to meeting strangers if I want to talk to anyone at all while I'm on the road! 


I find that most people are very kind and intrigued and, touch wood, I have never felt uncomfortable with anyone yet, but I always do have my trusty wasp spray on hand if I ever did get into a bad situation.  I would never want to let fear of danger stop me from living life the way I do or feel that I am in more danger just because I am a woman on my own. I trust in the inherent goodness of most people and have been blessed to find that true for me so far.




Loving the road tripping life!

I AM THE ROAD TRIPPING QUEEN!



Gosh it has been a while hasn't it?
And I realize that I have a LOT to fill you all in on since last I wrote. So many awesome road trips, so many adventures and, as is often the case, I've been so busy being out there on the road collecting other people's stories for my Vintage Trailer Magazine that I have neglected my own blog a bit. Sorry about that! I promise to fill you in on where I have been and what I have been doing now that "Rosie" has been tucked away for the winter and I have some home time for a change.


I have only recently come back from a mega 4,000 mile trip from Oregon to New Mexico where I attended the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta with my Sisters on the Fly.
This is one of those things that has been on my bucket list for such a long time and I have to say, it far exceeded my very high expectations. To be surrounded by 500 hot air balloons as they inflate and take flight is truly a sight to behold that I can only describe as total sensory overload.  But I'm getting ahead of myself now with lots to fill in before we get there...
Lets start at the beginning of this road trip.


After having spent the previous day packing everything I would need for the next 3 weeks on the road into the trailer and the Hudson, I left Oregon at around 10.30 a.m on Saturday the 7th October and drove 330 miles to Susanville, California where I stayed at the same RV park I had stayed at on my way to Reno for Hot August Nights: Susanville RV Park. I wrote in my journal at the end of each day and kept records of the roads I drove, each time I filled up with gas, and how much I spent on gas, food and accommodation on each day. I had planned each day's drive to be progressively less than the previous one to allow for the chronic fatigue and difficulty seeing out of my left eye that I have been battling since I got Bell's Palsy in August. Although it still is affecting me slightly, I am one of the lucky ones as some people never recover from the facial paralysis that this nasty illness causes. I was fortunate that the worst of it only lasted about two months for me.

The day Bell's Palsy struck - it was really scary!

Determined as I am,  I was not about to let the lingering symptoms of this darned thing prevent me from pursuing my road tripping dreams. I ended my diary entry on that first day with the words:
"I AM THE ROAD TRIPPING QUEEN".

I ended up having to make what was supposed to be the Sept/Oct issue of Vintage Trailer Magazine the Nov/Dec issue #36 as typing on the computer was virtually impossible during this time.

Yesterday was a wonderful moment when that magazine was delivered and I got to sit and read it from cover to cover for the first time. I love that moment as much as any of my customers as working on it over a period of time in separate pieces never gives the same feeling as when you have that hard copy of glossy paper magazine in your hands! It is always my favorite day. I'm like a proud mama holding her newborn baby for the first time every time.  Although this one took a while coming I think it is one of my best issues yet. Isn't she beautiful?


To order your copy or to subscribe go to: www.vintagetrailermagazine.com




Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Springtime in Oregon

Spring is here and the sun is shining and I am so loving being back in my cute little Oregon home with the deer in the back yard, my friendly neighbors, the gym down the road and my sister nearby. Life is good!  Now I can get back to doing what I love most... making more of these:


I'm now back in the Vintage Trailer Magazine Oregon office overlooking the blossoming trees and enjoying the sunshine streaming through my window, although it was a real treat to have a couple of days of snow when I first got back from Australia. Snow in March? Such a surprise when last winter I had been here it had not snowed once all winter! I love snow...


My house backs onto a forest and the deer often come out to nibble on the grass, and I can see them from my kitchen window. This little cutie was staring straight at me the other morning!


Since I've been back I've been really enjoying catching up with my sister and her family and we are both getting very excited about being able to go camping together now that her vintage Shasta Compact "Pheobe" is all restored, registered and ready to hit the road!
Here she is putting her new tags on after our trip to the DMV. Happy days!


Meanwhile, my 1949 Crown "Rosie" been taken in by an Oregon restorer who now has her shiny new skin on from front to back, new checkered flooring down and has replaced all the faulty wiring. He is now rebuilding all her internal cabinetry so she is all set to take me camping this summer. So far I have booked us into eleven events this year starting with Viva Las Vegas Rockabilly Weekend in April. It's going to be a busy year for Vintage Trailer Magazine!



It was lovely to catch up with Ann Kruger again last week at the monthly Oregon Sisters on the Fly dinner get together. Ann's sweet little pink and white 1959 Aloha "Dixie" was on the cover of Vintage Trailer Magazine issue #31 recently and she is just as lovely as her trailer is!



I'd better get back to work now as I am putting together the next issue of the magazine now but I will be sure to post more updates soon!

To order subscriptions and back issues of Vintage Trailer Magazine go to: www.vintagetrailermagazine.com 

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Vintage Trailer Magazine

It's not very often that you come up with an idea that nobody else has had. I'm pretty proud of the fact that my magazine was the first one in the world made specifically about vintage caravans and trailers. 



I started the magazine back in 2011 after having received lots of positive comments from people about my stories on this blog and in other magazine I was writing for as a freelancer. I love writing and sharing stories, I love vintage style, vintage caravans and traveling and this allowed me to combine all of my passions into one pursuit.


The magazine soon had subscribers from all over the world and got a lot of attention! I tried to cover stories from as many places as the stories were coming in from and began traveling regularly between the places where most of the readers came from: Australia, America and New Zealand which, coincidentally, were places I had spent the most time growing up in as well. I was born in Australia and my mother is Australian, my Dad was born in Canada but grew up in America. We spent several years in New Zealand when I was growing up. I went to college in Los Angeles, got married and had my kids in Australia and my Mum lives in New Zealand, so I consider all of these places home...


Knowing that the word "Caravan" means something completely different in America than it does in Australia, I registered and trademarked the name Vintage Trailer Magazine as well to cater for our American readers.


The next step was finding a U.S. based printer that could reproduce the same high quality and glossy publication that I wanted so that shipping costs to send it to the subscribers wouldn't deter the growing American market and I am pleased to say we were able to do that.



The best part of my job is being able to hook up, get out on the road and see so many amazing things, meet so many lovely people and get lots of photos for future issues. Life is a road trip!


In 2014 I set up a home and office in Oregon, where my sister had lived for the past 18 years and fell in love with the place! So many trees and rivers and mountains and snow... I think it is as close to heaven as I've been! I sold my 1965 Viscount "Vicky" to buy a 1953 Hudson Hornet to use in America and set off on a huge trip to discover more of my new home, from California across the top through Washington, Idaho, Montana, South Dakota and Iowa to Illinois with a 1956 Mercury trailer in tow.


From there I joined up with the Sisters on the Fly Route 66 trip and made some amazing friends who were just as wild and adventurous and brave as I was. I am so thankful to real life sisters Maurrie and Becky for sharing their passions with so many and creating a group where women can be girls, but still be empowered and silly too! This is Becky's trailer on the cover of Vintage Trailer Magazine Issue 26 - that's their Amazing Mum Maizie in the painting. Now she was a wild one!


Every time a new issue comes off the presses I feel as excited as a mother who has just been handed her brand new baby for the very first time. Even though I pore over every detail for the months leading up to print day, whenever I have the actual magazine in my hands, it's like I am seeing it for the very first time... every time! It never gets boring.


I make myself comfy, have a nice cup of hot chocolate or a sweet treat and sit and read it from cover to cover and every story takes on a whole new dimension when it is there on paper in front of me. I read it as if I have never seen it before, and it honestly feels like that! 


How it all comes together is still a bit of a mystery to me, but somehow it does, from the skeleton to the fleshing it, it comes to life in pieces until the day a new magazine is born. And, like a new baby, it's exhausting and it keeps me up at nights many times, but I still love it to bits! 


Here is the latest issue #29 of Vintage Trailer Magazine - out now.
Subscriptions can be ordered at www.vintagetrailermagazine.com

Saturday, February 13, 2016

My Big American Road Trip

I am happy to report that my big American Road Trip in May - June 2015 panned out a lot more successfully than my big Aussie Road Trip had, although it was not without its incidents - as all story-worthy road trips are.
There was enough "epic-ness" to this journey to fill a whole book... and maybe I will one day!


After months and months of preparation, the time had eventually come for our epic American road trip to begin. My awesome hot rod mechanic Dave Jobe had installed brand new disc brakes, a new radiator and exhaust system and given the Hudson a full going over to make sure it was ready for the trip. I was sent off with gallons of fluids and strict instructions to check the oil, coolant and automatic transmission fluid every day. The prize giveaway 1956 Mercury was all packed and I had plenty of room to stash clothes and supplies to last me for two months on the road.  All that was left for me to do was to hook up, and hit the road.


On the 4th of May, I set off from Oakland Oregon, meeting up with my Sister on the Fly travel buddy Linda Hutt in Portland on the first leg of the journey to Chicago. We travelled via Washington, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming and Minnesota checking out some amazing sights along the way. By the time we got to Deadwood in South Dakota, we advised by the KOA campground staff to move on as quickly as possible as they were expecting eight inches of snow the next day. After checking out the Presidents carved into the rocks of Mount Rushmore, we hightailed it on to the Badlands, keeping one step ahead of the storms, or so we thought…


The next morning Linda knocked on my door. 
"Lisa, what do you call this?" she said. 
It was snowing - a lot! Resembling an arid moonscape, the Badlands under snow was quite a sight to behold.  The storm had hit a day earlier than expected and when a motorhome pulled in piled high with snow that had just made a hasty retreat from the blizzard up on the highway, we knew it was time to move on.  The Hudson wipers struggled to keep the snow off the windshield and at the Pioneer Auto Museum in Murdo I had to pull over to scrape the snow off so that I could see where I was going.  


We finally managed to get ahead of the storm and by the time we reached Sioux Falls, the snow had subsided to heavy rain with wind, lightning and thunder.
The next day we planned to continue east to La Crosse, Wisconsin. A chance encounter at one of my many gas stops (the Hudson only has a fifteen gallon tank and towing was running at about ten miles to the gallon, so my petrol stops were frequent – thank goodness for cheap American petrol!) saw us make a change of route.


The Hudson always drew plenty of admirers wherever we went and at one stop in a small place called Albert Lea in Minnesota we met a lovely hot rodder called Brian who recommended we take a short cut through Iowa to Joliet to avoid the traffic and tolls around Chicago. He had a Willy’s Jeep in a truck and was heading that way, so he cruised with us for a while through the acres and acres of cornfields of Iowa until we pulled off at Waterloo for the night and he carried on. Brian had also told us that if we continued on this way we would drive right past the American Pickers Iowa store; Antique Archeology, so we made sure we stopped in there on the way to Joliet. Although they were closed for filming, Rob Wolfe (Mike’s brother) and Danielle Colby saw the Hudson and the caravan and came out for a chat and a photo.  American Pickers is my favourite TV show, so this was a definite highlight for me.


 On the 12th of May, after one week on the road, we crossed over the Mississippi river and cruised into Joliet, Illinois for the “Sisters Get their kicks on Route 66” kick off party with the rest of our Sisters on the Fly. On Wednesday we all went into Adams Street, in downtown Chicago for our group photo with the official start of Route 66 sign before hitting Route 66 with our caravans in tow and heading towards Springfield, Illinois.


We stopped at the Gemini Giant in Wilmington and the quaint old Standard Oil Gas Station in Odell with its blue and white Winnebago parked out front and in Pontiac I got a cool photo of the Hudson and the caravan with the Route 66 mural that is painted on the back of the museum wall. About thirty miles before Springfield, on some remote stretch of Route 66 in a place called Braidwell I heard a bang, smelt burning and the car seemed to be stuck in first gear. Not good!


I pulled over outside a rather scary looking abandoned old Motel to check the transmission fluid when a couple of my caravanning Sisters stopped to see if I was OK. I topped up the fluid and added some trans conditioner and managed to follow them to the Illinois State Fairgrounds in Springfield where I camped the night with the two Connies (Yes, they were both called Connie!) who had stopped to help me.  


The next afternoon we set off to catch up with the rest of the Sisters but as soon as I pulled out I knew that I had a serious problem. The car would not budge out of first, so I pulled over and asked some locals if they knew of any transmission shops nearby. By some miracle, Steve’s Transmission Service was just around the corner from me, but by now it was 3pm on a Friday and Steve said he wouldn’t be able to work on it until Monday. So, much to my dismay, the Connies went on without me and I ended up back at the fairgrounds on my own. I called my mechanic back in Oregon and he called Steve and told him of my mission and how important this trip was, and Steve agreed to work on it over the weekend for me. Thanks Steve! In the meantime I had a new camping neighbor called Dorian Santiago who was resting his weary feet having begun his Hike for Humanity walking tour of Route 66 a week prior and that made me feel a lot less sorry for myself.


By midday on Monday the burnt out 700R transmission had been replaced with a reconditioned Turbo 350 and I was back on the road again and racing like Doc Hudson from the Disney movie Cars to catch up with the rest of the group. I drove straight through St Louis and managed to catch up with them all in Springfield, Missouri just in time for dinner that night. Phew - Crisis averted!


After two nights in Springfield, we hit Route 66 again taking in the thirteen miles that go through Kansas and Doc got to lead the parade of caravans as we came into town. I stopped in to see Melba and Dean at the Cars on the Route store on the corner where I got a photo of Doc with the tow truck that was the inspiration for “Tow Mater” in the Disney Pixar movie Cars before heading west to Claremore, Oklahoma. That night we all camped up in the rodeo grounds and had an awesome catered dinner at he Will Rogers Museum. I got a new neighbor called Kim and when we hit the road again we ended up travelling together stopping in at the Blue Whale in Catooza, for lunch at the Rock Cafe and marveling at the roof of the Round Barn in Arcadia before making it into Oklahoma City.


By this stage it had been pretty much raining non-stop since I had left Oregon and we were all getting a bit fed up with it. In Oklahoma City we were camped in the fairgrounds where we were invited to participate in the OGRA Rodeo with our petticoats and stick ponies.  The next day the rain got heavier and heavier until the campground was awash with puddles. Then all of our phones started honking with warnings about flash flooding and tornados.  I had no idea what to do but figured sitting in a caravan probably wasn’t the best place to be during a tornado, so I packed a small backpack with a few essentials such as my laptop, mobile phone and hard drive (so the business would be safe!) and a change of clothes and a bottle of whisky (to keep me warm!) and was about to head across the bathroom block (figuring a concrete structure would be safer than a fifteen-foot aluminium shell on wheels) when there was a bang, bang, banging on my door.


“Get out, NOW! Come on We’ve go to get out of here, there’s a tornado coming!” I jumped in the car with some other sisters and we were directed by security to the main auditorium of the fairgrounds and told to take shelter under the covered concrete stairs with a film crew from the New York who had been covering the rodeo. The large roller doors were closed and we were warned to listen out for the sound of a freight train that would indicate the tornado had struck. We watched live streaming weather reports on phones and i-pads as the tornado hit ground just thirty miles from us but thankfully it skirted around us and after a few hours (and a few shots of whisky) we were free to go back to camp.

The next morning the rain had subsided and we all packed up and hit the road as quickly as possible, keen to head towards Amarillo, Texas and promises of sunshine. On the way there, we stopped in at the Redneck capitol of the world in Erick, Oklahoma and were entertained by the hilarious Harley at the Sandhills Curiosity Shop before crossing the border into Texas where I got a photo of the Hudson at the U Drop Inn in Shamrock. Both of these iconic Route 66 stops were also featured in the Cars movie, so you can see why it was that I chose “Doc Hudson” to make this trip with me. 


That day, we took parts of Route 66 that had been closed due to floods the day before. We drove down over washed out bridges and across huge potholes on the original stretch of road that rolled up and down hills like a roller coaster through some lovely countryside but that gave us, the cars and the caravans some serious shaking. Doc had started sounding a bit like a Mack Truck and it became clear I had knocked a hole in my exhaust somewhere. The next day I was lucky enough to get on to a local hot rodder in Amarillo; Skeeter and his buddy Andrew who took Doc back to their workshop and fixed up the hole in the exhaust for me and gave the car a bit of a tune up. Thanks Skeeter and Andrew!


I finally pulled into Amarillo at around sunset (Yes, there was sun – and it was good!) and stopped in at the Cadillac Ranch that was just around the corner from our RV Park.
From Amarillo, we headed to the midpoint Café and crossed the line that meant we were half way across Route 66 before crossing the border into New Mexico. 


I stopped to check out the awesome car and memorabilia museum at Russell’s Truck Stop and really enjoyed driving through the town of Tucumcari with its old neon motel signs like the Blue Swallow Motel and the Palomino Hotel – Classic Route 66 at its finest.  From there I went to the Blue Hole at Santa Rosa and took a refreshing dip in the vivid clear blue natural spring that is icy cold all year round before heading up to Santa Fe.


After a couple of days in Santa Fe, I stopped in to see Vicki and her Hudson at Enchanted Trails RV Park & Trading Post and cruised solo along old 66 taking lots of photos of the abandoned old Motels and service stations along the way that I find so intriguing. I felt so right at home there on the Mother Road in my old car, and really enjoyed the freedom and exhilaration of plotting my own course and took my time to appreciate as much of it as I could and at around sunset I pulled into the historic El Rancho Hotel in Gallup for a well-deserved Margarita.


The next day we set off for Arizona taking in Holbrook and the Wigwam Motel and the Jack Rabbit Trading Post with its “Here it is” sign before heading into Winslow to stand on the corner.



That night we cruised on through Flagstaff and stayed in Williams where we were treated to a great night out at the Wild West Junction Saloon the first night and at Twisters Soda Fountain the next.


After Williams I drove through Ash Fork and Seligman to Kingman where I opted to stay at the Kingman KOA campground. As soon as I rolled into the KOA and checked in, the Hudson died right there in the driveway and I couldn’t get it started. The KOA manager towed me into my site and called a mobile mechanic friend of his who agreed to come and check it out the next morning.
So, once again, the sisters moved on to the next town while I stayed behind getting a new starter motor put in by the very reasonably priced Greg from Simplified Automotive. Thanks Greg!


I was back on the road by 2pm and decided to do what we had been advised not to do, and tow the caravan up an over the steep and winding “make or break” hill climb over Sitgreaves Pass that had been the end of so many early Route 66’ers “California or bust” journeys.  This part of the road was the most important to me, and the sense of achievement and satisfaction I felt when Doc, the Mercury and I made it to the top was indescribable. I was on top of the world and I felt it! Across in the distance lay the deserts of California and Nevada and below me the old mining town of Oatman, where descendants of the donkeys used in the mining days now roam free in the main street. I had made it and the end of the journey of a lifetime was nearly over.




I continued on old Route 66 for as much of it as I could across the dips and rises and bumpy, bumpy roads that shook my bones although some parts were closed due to flood damage. I managed to make it across the border to California and to the Bagdad Café just in time to watch the Sunset over the wrecked old Airstreams made famous in the 1987 movie Bagdad Café starring Jack Palance before getting into camp at Barstow at around 8pm that night.


The next day I was thirty-eight miles from our final destination of Ventura, California, when I realized I had no power and was just coasting down the big hill on the highway.  I pulled over but could not get the car to start at all. Of all the incidents that I’d dealt with and taken in my stride, this one got me.  I’d come this far and was determined to make it right to the end. Despite having taken out maximum AAA coverage before I left, this was the first time I actually had to call in for a tow. Willy the very funny and sweet tow truck driver thought it was my fuel pump, but I wasn’t so sure.
“You’ve got no fuel in your fuel filter,” he said and towed me to nearby Calabasas Car Care and told them to order a fuel pump for me. Being 350 Chevy powered the Hudson was always easy and cheap to get parts for, so I knew it would be an easy fix. Problem was it was now 4pm and they closed at five.


“You’ve got no fuel in your fuel filter,” the mechanic said. “We’re trying to get the part now”
Once again I assured them that I did have fuel in my fuel filter, but that it was clean and the filter was new. But they weren't convinced, so they unscrewed the connector hose and lo and behold fuel spurted out. Feeling quite smug with myself at this point we then had a new problem. If it wasn’t the fuel pump, what was it that had stopped the Hudson in its tracks? It turned out to be some dodgy old wring that had shorted the ignition out when it had broken loose and been touching the engine, probably from the bumpy roads I had been on the day before. About half an hour, a few new wires, $210 and some handy welding later, I was back on the road and feeling victorious. I drove straight to the beach, took off my shoes, walked across the sand and dipped my toes in the Pacific Ocean. We had made it!


Over the next day or so, a sense of real sadness swept over me. I had spent so long dreaming of doing this trip in an old car and caravan, and this was the end of the my journey on the Mother Road. I was exhausted beyond belief but feeling very proud of myself and totally in love with the car and caravan that had made my dreams come true.  Including my journey back to Oregon, I had drove almost 6,000 miles from one side of America to the other and back again and was on the road for two months. I made so many new friends and saw so many amazing sights; things that photos or words will never be able to fully recreate. It felt magical and surreal and I didn’t want it to be over yet.
I guess I’ve ticked a pretty major achievement off my bucket list now, and it’s going to take some time to recover, but I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.


 Thank you to all of my wonderful, amazing Sisters on the Fly sisters who partook of this epic journey across Route 66, to all the hard-working organizers and especially Maurrie & Becky (sisters #1 & #2) who started this whole crazy thing. What an amazing trip it was! There were almost 300 of us at the end of it, and 39 of us who "went all the way". I have made friendships that will last a lifetime and created very special memories that will never leave me...